


Lt. Col. Yaag Rosch: A Father's Influence; A Son's Sacrifice

by shadowpyxy_pyxydust



Series: A Soldier's Conscience [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowpyxy_pyxydust/pseuds/shadowpyxy_pyxydust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lt. Col. Rosch struggles to reconcile what his father taught him with what his duty commands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Statements in double quotes are speech, statements without quotes are thoughts, and single quotes are special based on their context (onomatopoeia, euphemism, quoting another, etc.).

_**Day 5, 2227 hours, PSICOM HQ, Eden** _

The scarred handsome man constrained his long, silver hair with the black ribbon his mother gifted him with upon his acceptance into PSICOM Academy fifteen years ago. He'd repair it when it began to fray by stitching a meticulous seam and trimming the ragged excess along the ends. Looking over his appearance in the mirror, his reflection gave a stern nod. _Father said a confident appearance bred a confident presence._

  
Turning on his heel, Lt. Col. Yaag Rosch, Director of PSICOM's Military Division, exited his spartan quarters. He'd been summoned by Lt. Col. Jihl Nabaat, Director of PSICOM's Research Division (and so PSICOM as a whole) and valedictorian of his Academy graduating class. Still fuming at the lack of information he'd received so far from his superior about the incident earlier that day, he wondered what tidbits of information she'd deem need to know at this meeting. _I had to find out from Sergeant Leldin of the GC's Bodhum Security Regiment - Euride Squad today that the incident occurred to begin with; otherwise I'd walk into this meeting blind._

  
He took a seat at the table, his dark mood hidden behind an impassive mask of professional disinterest. Gazing around the utilitarian room did nothing to take his mind off the meeting's purpose or the possible machinations of his command chain. He was not reassured by the other personnel entering the room—scientists and specialists associated more with Jihl than with him. The normally stoic Rosch struggled to keep the sneer from his expression. _These are men and women of thought; too bad they don't think beyond their current obsession._

  
His thoughts were cut short as Lt. Col. Nabaat entered the room, trademark heel-click and smirk accompanying her appearance. Yaag's eyebrow twitched when he saw she had her baton in hand. _Something's bothering her. Perhaps there is more here than Leldin knew or felt comfortable telling me over comms._ The meeting piqued his interest as something other than an annoyance or backhanded insult from the always-infuriating Nabaat.

  
The woman at the front of the room opened the meeting. "Good evening. Thank you all for coming at this late hour." She imperceptibly nodded in Yaag's direction. "I realize many of you were pulled away from **very** important work." Her smirk widened before her gaze moved from him to the scientists. "Fal'Cie Kujata chose a l'Cie this afternoon…" Gasps were heard from most in the room. "...The first since the War of Transgression." Nabaat pulled her glasses off as if she hadn't dropped a bomb of Pulsian proportions in the now-silent meeting room. A silence that erupted into excited scientists' chatter—most of which didn't interest Rosch in the slightest. His superior waited for the initial chaos to die down before she explained the power fluctuations, Guardian Corps' response, and the status of the new l'Cie.

  
_A_ _ **boy**_ _?!_ Disbelief colored his first coherent thought. Watching Jihl work the others into a furor, his instincts screamed that a power-play was beginning, and Nabaat was somehow involved.

  

> _**Flashback: 16 years earlier, Edenhall, Eden** _
> 
> _A seventeen year old Yaag Rosch accompanied his father to a Sanctum meeting as his father's acting attaché. The elder Rosch, a forty year old colonel in PSICOM, marched briskly forcing his son to quicken his pace. "You must understand, Yaag, the Sanctum Council is full of people with their own agendas, ambitions, flaws, and weaknesses. This is why Cocoon relies upon the fal'Cie, and it is why even the Primarch answers to fal'Cie Eden. Without the fal'Cie to blunt the harshness of human experience, we'd be lost. Do you understand what I'm telling you?" The young man nodded his head. "Good, repeat what you've heard." The elder Rosch gave his son a familiar stern look. "_ _**Not** _ _what I've said."_
> 
>   
>  _The young man glanced at his father's imposing figure and answered, "The Sanctum rules Cocoon under the guidance of the fal'Cie, especially fal'Cie Eden. This is true even for the most powerful Sanctum official, Primarch Dysley. Eden is a stop-gap against any rash or wrong-headed decision the Sanctum, whether it be Council or Primarch, may make for short term gain."_
> 
>   
>  _"Very good, Yaag." Col. Taggert Rosch turned down a short hallway and paused outside the Sanctum Council's door. "In here, you listen with your ears and your mind. Nothing more." The look he gave his son was commanding as he stressed the last two words, "_ _**Nothing less** _ _." The young Yaag nodded, and they both entered the meeting room._
> 
> _**End Flashback** _

 

_**Day 8, 1730 hours, PSICOM HQ, Eden** _

Once again, Yaag had the task of entertaining the child between testing cycles, this time with piggy back rides, while Nabaat parried his father's increasingly contrary and confrontational behavior. _She never was a people person._ A smirking grimace appeared; he dropped the expression in favor of a more engaging one.

  
He found, surprisingly enough, he liked the young l'Cie, Dajh Katzroy. A bachelor with little to no time or interest in anything beyond his career, the lieutenant colonel's exposure to children was limited to extended family he rarely saw and listening to colleagues recount the trials and tribulations of family life. _And those stories are nothing I'd willingly subject myself to._ He wiped another not-smile from his lips.

  
The comm. device half-hidden by his hair allowed Yaag to listen as Jihl spoke with the boy's father, Sazh. He shook his head in consternation. _Why doesn't she just let the man see his boy? The child will do better with his father's guidance than without it. And Mr. Katzroy will stop arguing with her out of frustration and distrust._ Shaking his head again at the woman's poor attempts to put the father at ease, he pushed thoughts of how he would handle the situation out of his mind.

  
Placing the child on the floor, Yaag spoke, "Dajh." The boy looked at him and smiled. Lips pulling up in return, Yaag felt a tug on his heart for something lost to him long ago. "Why don't we play Tae'Jin Tower?" Dajh squealed and went running for the box of blocks. Dajh became distracted when the door opened to reveal his father and Nabaat. Yaag replaced the smile he gave Dajh with his normal impervious mask before turning to face the woman in the doorway.

  
He was reluctant to leave the Katzroys to Jihl's cold care. Standing unobtrusively to the side, he let Dajh's excited chatter about fireworks wash over him with half an ear. Only when Nabaat took an interest did he begin to listen as well. His frustration built when he heard her override Sazh's attempted redirection to the testing they had planned. _First she wants his cooperation in keeping Dajh here, and now she's undermining whatever authority he might still have with his son. She wonders why he doesn't trust her._

  
His blood ran cold when he heard Dajh explain why the Fireworks Festival in Bodhum was so important. In a quiet, lost voice, Dajh whispered, "It's there." The boy hid his face in his father's shoulder, and he refused to look up. The elder Katzroy looked shell-shocked.

  
"Colonel, are you sure we should..." Yaag couldn't bring himself to finish his question. Given what they knew of Dajh's abilities, there was likely to be something Pulsian there. And if Dajh could feel it from Eden... _What are we dealing with?_

  
Jihl didn't think twice before responding in the affirmative. "I believe it would be worth checking out." She gave him a nod as she pushed her glasses up. She continued in a firm voice that spread the cold Yaag felt into his bones. "We haven’t heard Dajh say anything like this before. It’s possible that if his power to sense Pulse entities or activity is working, there will be something at the Fireworks Festival in Bodhum." _As if she doesn't care what that could mean for the Katzroys...Or the citizens of Bodhum._ He saw the lack of concern for Dajh from his superior was not lost on Sazh.

 

He gave a stiff nod before excusing himself and returning to his quarters. _**If**_ _there is a Pulsian influence in Bodhum, of course we have to cut it out as if it was a cancer. Anything less, and Cocoon will erupt into chaos._ The reminder that his duty was to all of Cocoon, not to a single person or a single family or a single community, did nothing to assuage his anxiety and disquiet about what the coming days could bring.

  

> _**Flashback: 18 years earlier, Rosch Residence, PalumPolum** _
> 
> _"Understand me, Yaag. It's not that I do not want you in PSICOM. I want you to understand the differences between the duties of Citizens, Politicians, Bureaucrats, and Military—in that regard you need to understand the differences between the Guardian Corps and PSICOM. That way, you choose your Duty well."_
> 
>   
>  _Yaag heard the capital letters in his father's speech; this was not a simplistic discussion by any means, but a discussion of how and under what conditions the Rosch's only child would serve Cocoon. There was a long line of public servants in his father's and mother's families that went back to the War of Transgression, possibly before although some records were sketchy at best. Yaag was expected to be no different._
> 
>   
>  _"I know I want the military, Dad. I want to be PSICOM like you and Mom." The fifteen year old stood determinedly before his father. He did not worry about his worth in his father's eyes; his parents taught him to think and to act. Duty and service ran in his blood all the way to his bones. He_ _ **knew**_ _what he wanted; he just had to convince his father it was not a decision made of ephemeral emotion._ Great job so far...' _Just like you and mom._ ' Really, Yaag? **Really?!** _He ignored his inner critic as well as he suppressed his wince—not easily, but successfully in his mind all the same._
> 
>   
>  _Taggert Rosch gazed at his son, weighing what the boy said and didn't say. The suppressed wince and doubt-shadowed gaze did not go unnoticed despite how quickly they passed. "Fine. I will agree you are ready to choose," Yaag's body language began to tense in excitement, "_ _ **if**_ _you can explain to me the differences in_ _D_ _uties to my satisfaction." His son's posture deflated._
> 
>   
>  _"Can I have some time to gather my thoughts?" Yaag asked respectfully._
> 
>   
>  _"Of course." His father nodded, hiding the pride his son's confidence and forethought brought to the surface._
> 
>   
>  _**An hour later...**_
> 
> _The younger Rosch knocked on his father's study door._ I'm as ready as I can be for this. If I pass this last test of his, I can begin training instead of just waiting. _When the colonel granted him permission to enter, Yaag walked into the room until he was centered in front of his father's desk. Stopping exactly two feet from the desk's edge and adopting the rigid yet relaxed stance his parents held as they presented information to the Sanctum Council during public meetings, Yaag began._
> 
> _**End Flashback** _

  
_**Day 8, 2208 hours, Lt. Col. Yaag Rosch's Quarters, Eden**_

Yaag dragged his hands down his face. Looking at his forlorn reflection in the vanity mirror above the dresser, he repeated what he told his father all those years ago as if the room had listening ears and a sympathetic heart. "A PSICOM officer's first duty is to the entirety of Cocoon. Then to those soldiers placed under his command. Then to the citizens. The Sanctum embodies this ideal. The fal'Cie guard this ideal. PSICOM must act on that ideal, or we are nothing." The words rang hollowly in his ears, no guiding hand to reassure him of his path.

  
_**Day 10, 0924 hours, PSICOM airship**_ **Gilbranth** _ **, enroute from Eden to Bodhum**_

"Mr Katzroy. Dajh. Welcome aboard." Lt. Col. Rosch made the effort to greet the l'Cie and his father civilly since Nabaat couldn't be bothered. Dajh smiled at him while Sazh was stand-offish. "Colonel Nabaat awaits you in the cabin." With a smart turn, he made his way to the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit. _Maybe now I can get some rest._ Yaag wasn't too worried about co-pilot duties. An accomplished pilot, he'd already turned down the lieutenant's offer to vacate the pilot's chair to him. He settled into his seat.

  
_**Five hours later…**_

Enjoying the uneventful flight, Yaag roused himself to complete the pre-landing protocols as the airship flew over the Bodhum Vestige. He felt a freezing sensation wash over him, one that was becoming familiar, when he overheard Dajh say he wanted to go into the Vestige. The feeling spread when he heard his superior confirm the need for a scout team to be sent in as soon as they landed.

  
Yaag looked out the window as they flew over the Pulsian relic. _Sergeants Orvedron, Welty, and Darynga and their teams...That's thirty people plus mechanized creatures. We're going to need some bombardiers available as well just in case._ The lieutenant colonel allowed his training to push aside his concern for the Katzroys and the future as he radioed the other airship with his instructions. _At least I can tell Jihl the teams are ready to go. Darynga is from Bodhum. I_ _'ll_ _put her in charge. She'_ _s_ _most familiar with anything we_ _could_ _find out from the GC and the locals here._ Nodding to himself he prepared the airship for landing.

  
_**Day 11, 2420 hours, PSICOM airship**_ **Gilbranth** _ **, Bodhum Security Regiment garrison’s airship pad**_

PSICOM's Military Commander slowly lowered the comm. unit to the control console of the airship. The Sanctum's decision, backed by Eden's silence on the matter, made the coming disaster final. Colonel Nabaat had left the conversation fifteen minutes before to speak with Sazh. This left Lt. Col. Rosch the sole beneficiary of Sanctum logic: remove the Vestige in its entirety, barricade Bodhum from the rest of Cocoon, and murder the citizens (tourists and residents alike) under the guise of an exile turned rebellion.

  
_Just when I thought my stomach couldn't tie itself in knots any further._ Distracted, Yaag failed to notice his clenching fists or furrowed brow as frustration and helplessness consumed him. _They_ _ **dismissed**_ _suggestions for strip searches to confirm branding, monitoring for subversive behavior, or targeted Purging of Bodhum's residents in_ _stead_ _of tourists or outright murder._ _ **Any**_ _of these would work to calm the populace at large while mitigating any Pulse taint we might find, but their_ _ **fear**_ _is too strong... And Eden says_ _ **nothing**_ _._ Yaag took a deep, fortifying breath and released his clenched fists before leaving the airship to find Jihl and the Katzroys. As he stepped off the airship his eyes were assaulted by the festival’s brightness as a velocycle carrying two passengers whirred above. _They're likely on the beach._

  
_**Thirty minutes later...**_

As his long strides carried him down the strand under the continuing display, the words he repeated to his father from so long ago came back to him. ' _Eden is a stop-gap against any rash or wrong-headed decision the Sanctum, whether it be Council or Primarch, may make for short term gain._ ' _I have to trust that Eden_ _ **would**_ _step in if this was not in the best interests of Cocoon as a whole. Otherwise, my duty means nothing._

  
He stopped within speaking distance of Colonel Nabaat. Taking another fortifying breath and making sure no one other than the Katzroys were within hearing distance, he confirmed what she already suspected, "Colonel Nabaat. The decision has been made. We are to proceed with the lockdown and await further orders." Her smile caused a shiver to run through him. He continued in an effort to hide it. "I have already spoken with the GC commander here, a Lt. Amodar. Jurisdiction has been passed to PSICOM for the duration, and we're meeting in the morning to discuss manning requirements until PSICOM reinforcements arrive tomorrow afternoon."

  
The shiver he covered was nothing compared to the rampant cold sweat triggered by his superior's eager response. "Very good, Rosch. I do believe we're getting somewhere."

  
_**Day 12, 1230 hours, PSICOM airship**_ **Gilbranth** _ **, Bodhum Security Regiment garrison’s airship pad**_

Yaag’s already tight nerves snapped tighter as his superior’s false dulcet voice drifted in from the _Gilbranth_ ’s cabin. “Really, Mr Katzroy. Our first priority at the moment is to get Dajh to safety. That’s what we all want.” Rosch grit his teeth and continued with the preflight protocols. _There’s nothing I can do. Nothing I_ _ **should**_ _do. All things Pulse are direct threats to Cocoon. My duty is to stamp those threats out wherever they appear._ The lieutenant colonel shook his head roughly as if his growing doubts could be so easily dismissed.

  
Nabaat took the copilot’s seat next to him. “How did the meeting with…Lt. Amodar, was it?...go?” Yaag took a moment to bite back the insubordinate response he wanted to give for something a bit more professional.

  
“He was cooperative and offered to pull in any of his people who were on leave. I declined, of course.” His superior’s brows rose incredulously.

  
She demanded, “You declined? Why on Cocoon would you do that? We need all…” Yaag interrupted her with an equal sharpness.

  
“ **Need?!** We **need** to keep the populace calm. We **need** to present an image of control. Our forces are already arriving en masse. The Purge is set to begin on schedule. We don’t **need** to pull people from their leave to do this. If things go **wrong** , we’ll **need** to pull them in for the hunt to follow.” As he began the last of the preflight checks, Yaag smirked at his commanding officer before continuing with a bite, “Leave the disposition of our military forces and the GC to me. **You** worry about our young l’Cie.” Lt. Col. Nabaat rose from her seat wrapped in an indignant silence and went back to check on the Katzroy boy. Rosch took the _Gilbranth_ to the air for the two-hour flight to PSICOM headquarters in Eden.


	2. When Lightning Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy." ~Helmuth von Moltke the Elder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Statements in double quotes are speech, statements without quotes are thoughts, and single quotes are special based on their context (onomatopoeia, euphemism, quoting another, etc.).

_**Day 13, 1** _ _**0** _ _**31** _ _**hours,** _ _**aboard** _ _**the** _ **Palamecia,** _**enroute from Bodhum to the Hanging Edge** _

Yaag Rosch spoke into his comm. unit not bothering to disguise his impatience with his superior’s interruption. “I don’t know where he’s gotten off to, Nabaat.” _Probably to find the answers you won’t or can’t give him_. “The Hanging Edge operation has already started, Colonel. If Katzroy **did** board a train in Bodhum, he’s already in the combat zone, and there’s nothing to be done.” He paused to allow the woman on the other end time to make ridiculous suggestions on how to get the man out of danger. “No. There isn’t anything I can do.” Another pause as Lt. Col. Nabaat’s voice reverberated out of the comm. Wincing, Rosch continued, “I have my work as well, and I’m monitoring the Purge’s progress as we speak.” Another pause while he attempted to stretch some of the strain of the last week from his shoulders. A real-time field report scrolled across the data screen drawing his attention. “Jihl, I think I’ve found him. A manasvin warmech just went down in an area that wasn’t supposed to have Purgees. I have to go.” Without waiting for a reply, he clicked the unit closed—hanging up on his superior officer. _She’s not going to like that._ He shrugged any concerns about her reaction aside.

  
Tapping on the screen, Rosch rolled back the footage of the warmech to the point when it acquired active targets. He paused the feed and zoomed in. Surprised to see Sazh Katzroy sitting on a train’s roof, pistols in hand, he murmured, “There you are. What are you doing?” He attempted to get the audio feed online and restarted the video. At first, all he got was the background noise of the battlefield and decided to cut audio. The unflappable lieutenant colonel forgot what he was doing when he saw a flash of red waving in the left side of the zoomed feed and specific audio came through.

  
_begin audio/video playback_

**Sazh** : Let’s be rational now! *static*

  
_The image resolved into two people. Sazh Katzroy stood on the right and slightly behind his companion. On the left, a young woman, Guardian Corps by her uniform, stood ready to go on the offensive, gunblade in hand. The elder Katzroy barely avoided the warmech’s electrified blades while his companion easily leaped beyond the annihilator’s reach._

  
**Sazh** : *static* ...sending in the big guns now. What do we do?

  **Unknown combatant** : Watch and learn.

_audio playback ends, video continues as the two counterattack_

  
“Who is this?” He couldn’t help but admire the woman’s combat prowess as she nimbly leaped beyond the manasvin’s blades and up its front plate to take advantage of the bullet holes Sazh’s pistols left in the protective armor. Her face came into clear view as she landed a perfect back flip and prepared another assault. _Hmmm, blazefire saber gunblade, modified lady’s GC uniform, crimson shoulder cape. The only person I’ve heard of who fits this description is assigned to_ …

  
Rosch looked over at his second, Major Connor Shelan, as he approached. “Your nephew is assigned to the Bodhum Security Regiment, isn’t he?” The major looked at him in surprise and nodded. “Good. Get him on the comm. I want to know who, exactly, this woman is.” Another nod and Major Shelan contacted his nephew, Corporal Kylen Shelan. A quiet discussion ensued.

  
“Sir.” Yaag acknowledged his second. “She is Sergeant Lightning Farron, under the command of Lieutenant Amodar of the Bodhum Security Regiment until her sudden resignation at the train depot this morning. She boarded Purge Train 6.” Maj. Shelan swallowed. “I was coming to report to you… That’s the train we lost contact with about ten minutes ago, sir.”

  
Lt. Col. Rosch found himself short on information. “Get her file uploaded to my view screen now. I want to know why she’s there and what she’s capable of.” Maj. Shelan nodded and began inputting commands into his terminal.

  
As he waited, Yaag monitored the casualty reports and security feeds. More reports came in of civilians actively resisting, and with that more PSICOM casualties than expected. After three minutes passed his patience wore thin. He glared at Maj. Shelan. “What are her capabilities? Why is she here?”

  
“I’m looking, sir. Her files have been altered—deleted.” Major Shelan tried every record recovery trick he knew. At the end of his efforts, he looked helplessly at his commanding officer. “I can’t answer you, sir.”

  
Yaag’s hands tightened into fists. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Find someone who can.”

 

> _**Flashback: 10 years earlier, PSICOM HQ, Eden** _
> 
> _**Debrief Vile Peaks – GC/PSICOM Joint Training Exercise OmegaSigmaAlpha** _
> 
> _Four command level officers and their seconds stood or sat in the meeting room waiting for Major General Taggert Rosch, PSICOM Commander, to begin the debriefing. Most looked bored; some affected an unconcerned façade. Those who knew the usual protocol for training debriefs were more than a little nervous that a person of Rosch’s rank would see to the debriefing himself._
> 
>   
>  _Lieutenant Yaag Rosch stood rigidly to the left and behind his commanding officer, Major Brend Randil; a line of mediglue sealed a cut that ran from inside his hairline just left of midline down and around the inner edge of his left brow and curving inward along the left side of the bridge of his nose toward his left eye. Amazingly, the eye was still intact._
> 
>   
>  This was supposed to be a joint exercise, but Maj. Randil can’t stand anyone in the Corps. It’s as if he views them as PSICOM washouts…at best. _He slid his gaze from General Rosch to Major Randil._ He ignored Raines’ recommendations and our objective suffered for it. _The young lieutenant’s gaze slid over to the Cavalry’s representative, Captain Cid Raines who sat as upright as always if a bit pinched looking around the eyes._ Father is not going to be pleased. _He returned his gaze back to the PSICOM Commander._
> 
>   
>  _Maj. Gen. Rosch stared at the PSICOM major in front of him. His distasteful thoughts did not reach his expression. Voice deceptively quiet, he began the debriefing he was certain would become an interrogation within a few statements._
> 
>   
>  “ _Gentlemen and ladies. We all know the results of this mission. A training mission gone awry many would call it.” He took a deep breath. “Still, casualties were higher than expected, and communication was not what it could have been. That’s why we’re here.”_
> 
>   
>  _Looking around the meeting room, he continued. “Would you agree this was a routine exercise?” All the assembled officers nodded. He nodded back. “Would you agree this was as easy a mission as we could put together to begin joint training between the military branches?” Major Randil’s nod was more perfunctory than the others’; this did not go unnoticed by the major general. “Would you agree that training together for joint missions will benefit both the Corps and PSICOM by building trust and improving communication?” Again, Major Randil’s body language screamed his reluctance to agree with his commanding officer’s statements. Taggert Rosch took advantage of the major’s noticeable hesitation._
> 
>   
>  “ _You disagree, Major?” If possible, Taggert’s voice softened even further. Everyone in the room squirmed as the sound reminded them of crushed velvet running across a razor sharp blade. “What do you suppose the purpose of this joint training mission was, then?”_
> 
>   
>  _Major Randil knew a trap when he saw one; he had his sights set on a Sanctum post when his term of service was up and recognized this line of questioning as dangerous to those ambitions. “I’m sure you’re correct, sir. From a theoretical, non-field point of view, joint missions seem like a sound strategy to prevent mistakes should PSICOM and the GC need to work together.” Randil passed his gaze across the others in the room, sneering at the GC officers. “From a practical standpoint, sir, I don’t see why joint missions are necessary at all. PSICOM and Guardian Corps have two separate missions, as I know we’re all aware. When would those missions put us in a place where we’d have to work together?”_
> 
>   
>  _The elder Rosch nodded in acknowledgment of his son’s commanding officer’s statements and gestured for the younger man to continue. Feeling validated, Major Randil did, now ignoring the Corps members in the room. “The entire reason PSICOM exists is because the precursor to the Guardian Corps was unable to contain the Pulse threat during the War of Transgression. They had neither the training in combat nor the ability to gather adequate intelligence that PSICOM now possesses; their personnel lacked the desire and talent for it. That has not changed in the intervening centuries. If another Pulse threat was to make itself known, PSICOM wouldn’t need the GC’s help. They’re little more than PSICOM-Lite as it is.”_
> 
>   
>  _Major Randil’s last sentence evoked a reaction from Capt. Raines’ second, Lt. Rygdea. “You think you and your boys…” Cid cut Rygdea short with a raised hand as he watched for Maj. Gen. Rosch’s reaction. The GC lieutenant subsided with a pointed look at his captain and a fiery glare for the PSICOM major._
> 
>   
>  “ _PSICOM-Lite you say?” Taggert pursed his lips. The GC officers stiffened in anticipation of refuting whatever judgment PSICOM’s commander was going to issue. Major Randil nodded._
> 
>   
>  _PSICOM's Commander stood. “PSICOM is better trained, yes?” Randil nodded. “PSICOM has a higher caliber of recruits in your estimation, Major?” Randil nodded again. The major general began to circle the table toward him._
> 
>   
>  “ _PSICOM has better equipment?” Randil nodded and blinked in confusion. The major general pulled him out of his thoughts._
> 
>   
>  “ _The Corps has nothing at all to offer PSICOM in any endeavor. Is that what you’re saying, Major Randil?” By this time, Taggert Rosch stood in front of Brend Randil. Again, the major nodded._
> 
>   
>  _**BAM!!!!**_
> 
>   
>  _Everyone except Yaag and Cid Raines jumped as the major general slammed his fist into the table inches from Major Randil’s right hand. Major Brend Randil was caught off-guard, believing he was building a rapport with his commanding officer, and he nearly fell out of his chair as a consequence._
> 
>   
>  _Taggert leaned in close to Maj. Randil’s face. “Then how do you explain Pulse automata taking out half your company in the Vile Peaks?!” No longer crushed velvet over sharpened adamantite, the major general’s voice assaulted the ears of all present. “How do you justify ignoring Captain Raines’ intel from Lt. Rygdea’s reconnaissance of the area?!” The elder Rosch spun away from the younger man as if the major’s existence was too despicable to witness._
> 
>   
>  _Major Randil sputtered in an effort to defend himself. “S-sir! How was I to know Captain Raines and his men were reliable?!...”_
> 
>   
>  _Before Lt. Rygdea could respond, Yaag spoke up. “With all due respect, sir, Capt. Raines and his Cavalry unit are the best there is when it comes to aerial reconnaissance. It’s detailed in their unit’s file.”_
> 
>   
>  _Major Randil turned on his second. “It was your job to review the reports and advise on various battle plans. You said nothing to reinforce the reliability of the GC’s information.” Randil turned to the elder Rosch. “What was I supposed to do without that verification? I did everything by the book.”_
> 
>   
>  _Raines stepped into the fray. “That’s not entirely accurate, Major.” The captain’s gaze flickered between father and son before locking on to the major. “‘By the book’ would mean you were familiar with the capabilities and weaknesses of each unit under your command. Ergo, your second, Lt. Rosch, did his duty by bringing the information my unit provided after our recon mission.” Cid allowed a thin humorless smile to quirk his lips. “By your own admission, you were woefully under-informed regarding the GC units under your command. Also, by your own admission, that lack was due in large part to your bias against the Corps.” Raines steepled his fingers and laid the charges bare._
> 
>   
>  “ _Frankly, Major, the men and women who died during this exercise died because of your gross incompetence as a field commander and gross negligence as a commanding officer.”_
> 
>   
>  _Randil’s eyes narrowed at Cid. “You are placing those deaths solely at my feet?” His indignation didn’t last long._
> 
>   
>  “ _That’s exactly where they should be placed, Major.” Taggert Rosch approached Brend Randil again; the younger man shrank into his chair before catching and straightening himself to face his superior officer. “You were the field commander. It was your job to use the resources at your disposal to get the job done with minimal casualties. You failed in your duty because of an unreasoning bias against half of the units at your disposal.” Maj. Gen. Rosch shook his head in disgust. “This behavior in a field commander is the same as a frontline soldier ignoring an arm, a leg, an eye, or an ear. Incompetence doesn’t begin to explain this.”_
> 
>   
>  _Taking a deep breath, PSICOM Commander Rosch closed the debriefing. “Everyone except Capt. Raines, Lt. Rygdea, Maj. Randil, and Lt. Rosch are dismissed. I’ve spoken with your respective commands. Enjoy your leave over the next three days. We’ll see you bright and early Monday morning at your regular report time and place. The aforementioned persons will remain in this room for another meeting. Dismissed.”_
> 
> _**End Flashback** _

  
_Major Randil was court martialed out of PSICOM and lost his political career, too. I will not make that mistake._ Lt. Col. Yaag Rosch watched as Sgt. Meli, a recent addition to his staff, managed to recover some of Sgt. Farron’s lost files. “Are you able to identify who damaged her files?”

  
“Unfortunately not, sir. What I can tell you is that Sgt. Farron is a gifted soldier, a favorite among her peers and with her commander. Not particularly personable, she still manages to be an inspiration to those under her command.” The young woman blushed a bit as she realized she was gushing. “My apologies, sir. My sister served under her before her resignation this morning. She is quite taken with the sergeant.”

  
“That is of no concern to us at the moment. What does concern us is what she’s capable of and what her motivations might be. Did your sister happen to divulge anything that might help with that since Sgt. Farron’s records are in disarray and inadequate to the task?”

  
The young woman paused and thought back to her last conversation with her sister the day before the Fireworks Festival. “Perhaps, sir. Sgt. Farron is notoriously tight-lipped and rabidly protects her privacy. However, everyone in Bodhum knew of her younger sister, Serah. The younger Farron has seemed a bit off over the last week or so, and no one knows why. She has a boyfriend, Snow Villiers.” Sgt. Meli paused. She chuckled a bit. “That might be it, sir. Lightning doesn’t care for her sister’s choice. I seem to recall she threatened him with painful dismemberment by gunblade if he didn’t leave her sister alone. According to my sister, at least.”

  
The view screen flashed with fragments of information on Sgt. Lightning Farron. Yaag scrolled through the data. _Wonderful._ The sarcastic thought did nothing to soften the perturbed expression on the Commander's face. “She was trained as a PSICOM huntress and upgraded to inquisitrix training during her first six months in the Corps.” _No one advances that fast. How did we not recruit her?!_ He shook his head. “Nothing to be done now. It certainly explains her fighting style. And the casualty count.” The lieutenant colonel let out a sigh. _I don’t have the right kind of manpower for this._

  
_**Day 13, 1**_ _ **2**_ _ **48**_ _ **hours,**_ _ **aboard**_ _ **the**_ **Palamecia** _ **, the Hanging Edge**_

By the time the _Palamecia_ brought the Pulse Vestige to Lake Bresha, casualty reports rose to unacceptable numbers along the 13E, 12E, and 11E trussways. The 5W trussway likewise had a high casualty count. The 6W trussway would’ve been counted a success if he hadn’t lost the _Farrinas_ and her entire crew in the process of putting down that particular problem.

  
Lt. Col. Rosch assigned Sgt. Meli the file recovery task on Sgt. Farron earlier in the day. He added Snow Villiers and any associates of his to that task as well. What she found explained the casualty count and didn’t cause him any undue alarm beyond that until…

  
“Colonel. I think I know why Sgt. Farron, Snow Villiers, and NORA are here and fighting.” Sgt. Neran Meli turned wide frightened eyes to her superior as she transferred some PSICOM footage from the day before that she found filed under Snow’s name as well as the images embedded in Snow’s and Serah’s digital identification information. “You need to see this, sir.” Yaag studied the identification images of the two, recognizing the family resemblance between the woman with Katzroy and the young woman who was presumably her sister. He began the video.

  
_begin video_

An image of Serah Farron and Snow Villiers being shot at while riding a velocycle appeared. The vehicle flew over the beach and out over the ocean before it veered back toward the camera. The velocycle raced up the front of the Vestige. Serah jumped out and was pulled into the landmark before it closed up tight. The velocycle, Snow its only occupant, was hit and careened out of control.

_end video_

  
“They’re coming for her.” Rosch said it with certainty. “If she was not l’Cie before, she is now. And they will be, too, before this is done.” He shuddered. _To be made into a tool with no will, and a Pulse-born one at that…_ He shook his disquiet off pulling his responsibilities over himself like a shroud _. This is exactly the situation PSICOM was created to handle._ “Major Shelan, you have command until I return. Once the Vestige is in position over Lake Bresha, commence with the attack. I must report to the Primarch.”

  
Yes, sir."

 

_**Day 13,** _ _**1313** _ _**hours, Primarch Dysley's mobile office aboard the** _ **Palamecia** _**, the Hanging Edge** _

"Your Eminence. We have every reason to believe these people are a threat, if not now then in the very near future." Lt. Col. Nabaat continued her piece of the conversation. "One of them is Dajh's father, the child l'Cie Kujata made."

  
"They are headed into the Vestige, are they not, Yaag?" Primarch Dysley's flat tone belied the urgency Rosch expected him to feel.

  
"Yes, sir. That is our best intelligence at the moment." The Military Director kept his gaze strictly between his immediate superior and the leader of their society. _Focusing on the wall is a better use of my time than choosing sides in this struggle._

  
A slight sneer caressed the Primarch's lips. "You agree that all Pulse influence is a danger to Cocoon?" Both Nabaat and Rosch nodded. "Then our path is clear." His voice hardened in judgment. "Bury them with their fal'Cie. Keep Sanctum forces focused on the Purgees." With a wave of his hand, Dysley dismissed the two officers.

  
Bowing, Yaag exited the room. _This operation was flawed from the start. We wouldn't_ _ **have**_ _a rogue soldier or paramilitary group fighting against us if the Sanctum had taken one of the less extreme solutions suggested._ Serah Farron's image skittered across his thoughts. _Then again, maybe we would._ Shaking his head in disgust, he returned to his command center.

  
_**Day 13, 1** **410** **hours, PSICOM Op** **eration** **s Command** **Center** **aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **, the Hanging Edge**_

"Sir, the Vestige is in position."

  
Lt. Col. Rosch entered the area with an order on his lips. "Fire volley one." A half dozen harpoons pierced the Vestige's façade scattering metal shrapnel of various sizes everywhere.

  
Major Shelan monitored the harpoons' sensors. "The harpoon hooks have caught and held, sir. The expansion tubing remains uncompromised."

  
"Understood, Major. Fire volley two." Another half dozen harpoons joined their brethren within the Vestige. "Retract harpoons until all sensors indicate they've caught and held. Notify me when that's done."

  
"Yes, sir." Without looking up, Connor Shelan acknowledged his commanding officer. Several minutes passed. Fingers moving deftly across the screen, he confirmed the positioning of the harpoons. "Sir, harpoons are set and ready to...."

  
A bright scintillating light flooded into the command center through several monitoring screens focused upon the Pulsian relic. _What is that? Magic?_ Yaag narrowed his eyes at the screen in front of him. "Report! Is this an attack from the fal'Cie?"

  
"Unknown, sir. Energy readings are off the chart, but we cannot identify it." The Vestige quickly crystallized. The shockwave shredded the harpoons' tubing and destroyed the energy beams connecting the relic to the _Palamecia_ above it. When the shock wave hit the airships, they were knocked off course or out of the sky.

  
When Yaag was able to see through the monitors again, the Hanging Edge lay in shambles. Lake Bresha was a crystallized mass below them—the Bodhum Vestige a damaged yet intact Pulsian eyesore in the middle of it. _Damn! No telling where any l'Cie or surviving Purgees wound up._

  
"Major. Alert all PSICOM recon and sweep teams aboard the _Palamecia_. We're wiping up the hard way as soon as we find a landing site. Put all search and destroy teams on standby. Havocs will deploy their teams via gravity bombs." Rosch ignored the hidden shock amongst his command crew. "Our first duty is to Cocoon, and she will not survive with Pulse l'Cie corrupting her." They all nodded in acceptance before turning back to their tasks. _We no longer have the luxury of doing this the easy way. That chance was lost to us two nights ago._ Lt. Col. Yaag Rosch left his subordinates to carry out his orders.

  
Already looking ahead to the new manning requirements for the latest twist in his day, Yaag asked a question of his long dead father. _Is there ever any way to do one's duty without losing one's soul?_

  
There was no answer.


	3. Omens and Portents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information comes in but not fast enough to be useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I’m ex-military and a military brat, so I tried to keep the military jargon and courtesies/protocols as realistic as possible. To that end I named and numbered all operations and various teams. Here’s your glossary for this installment: HST Name is a Havoc Sky Tank. PSW# is a PSICOM Sweep Team. PRT# is a PSICOM Reconnaissance (Recon) Team. PSD# is a PSICOM Search and Destroy Team. 
> 
> Statements in double quotes are speech, statements without quotes are thoughts, and single quotes are special based on their context (onomatopoeia, euphemism, quoting another, etc.).

_**Day 1** **3** **,** **1** **6** **63** **hours, aboard the** _ **Palamecia** _**,** **Lake Bresha** _

PSICOM's weary Military Director answered his comm. "Rosch here." The fogginess of interrupted thought gave way to intense focus. "Understood. I'll be right there. Have Sgt. Meli report her findings to me no later than 1830. If they're moving that fast, we need as much information as we have available to all units." He snapped the device closed and left.

 

Captain Darynga's call worried him. PSICOM forces spent the previous two hours hunting down Purge survivors. Two teams may have encountered l'Cie since being deployed. _If so, b_ _lood is on their hands_ _–_ _Lightning Farron's and Snow Villiers' most of all._ Rosch went over the knowledge Sgt. Meli was able to piece together from datalogs and other sources regarding the four suspected l'Cie after he'd retired to his office. _Sazh Katzroy: civilian pilot, father to Kujata's l'Cie, early 40's, wields dual pistols, marksman. A good man. Lightning Farron: sergeant in the GC's Bodhum Security Regiment, early 20's, wields a gunblade, expert marksman, master swordsman, expert in hand to hand combat. Exemplary NCO. Snow Villiers: leader of vigilante group NORA, early 20's, grew up in Children's House #482 Bodhum, early 20's, expert in hand to hand combat._ _Anarchic idealist_ _._ _Unknown young woman: petite, probably in late teens or early 20's, wields an odd_ _rod-like_ _weapon. Possible Puls_ _e_ _-born l'Cie._ His last thought sent a shiver down his spine. _Pulse l'Cie are dangerous; Puls_ _e-born_ _l'Cie_ _are_ _more so._ A sigh escaped the beleaguered Military Director as he entered his command center.

 

"Where was their last known location?" Yaag snapped the question at the frazzled Captain Darynga, sister to the Sgt. Darynga he sent into the Vestige three days before. _No time to indulge emotion. I'll have more_ _letters to_ _write before this is done._ The guilt associated with operations gone wrong was a familiar sting he pushed aside thanks to years of practice. "How many were sent into that area? Have all teams within ten miles of the Ruins report in immediately."

  
"Y-yes, sir." Capt. Darynga nodded at the corporal next to her to send the message. "PRT 7 and PSD 82 were assigned to secure the Ruins at 1503 hours. They've reported finding deportees. They continue the search. PRT 14, PSW 65, and PSD 92 were dispatched at 1527 hours to comb the areas between the Vestige and the Ruins. According to their most recent report at 1648 hours, they've found straggling Purgees but no l'Cie. PSW 58 and PRT 29 encountered comm. interference upon deployment near the Vestige at 1452 hours today. We believe it's caused by the Pulse fal'Cie. Attempts to reestablish communication have been mostly unsuccessful so far. Given their proximity to the Vestige, an encounter with l'Cie may also be responsible. Cpl. Pliner is cleaning up the audio and video we received from PRT 29 at 1542 hours and from PSW 58 at 1656 hours.”

  
_I don't care about_ _Purgees_ _at the moment. L'Cie are a far bigger threat than any Purge survivor could be until Pulse's chosen are dealt with._ Yaag was in no mood to be left without pertinent information. “Keep trying. I want—”

  
“What is your contingency plan in case the l'Cie escape, Yaag?” Jihl's voice carried across the command center as she walked in the main door. As soon as her voice registered, everyone snapped to attention. She waved them at ease and kept her gaze on their commanding officer. “A better question: Where are they?” The hubbub of a computerized den returned.

  
_Why her? Why now?_ Yaag gazed at her. “We're not entirely certain, Colonel. As soon as I know, you'll know.” The click of her heels annoyed him from ten feet away. _Go away, Jihl. I don't need this._

  
Nabaat stopped next to him and looked over his shoulder at his data display. “Hmmm. Lightning Farron.” She tapped the arm of her spectacles against her chin in thought. “The name seems familiar.”

  
“Probably from my reports, Jihl.” PSICOM's Military Commander loathed when PSICOM's Director stood behind him. Her condescending behavior and mocking attitude set him on edge. “If you'll pardon the abruptness, what brings you here? I thought you were attending the Primarch.” He turned to face her, his nerves snapping. _More like kissing his ass._ He kept the sneer he could feel away from his expression.

  
“I wanted to see if you've located the l'Cie, yet. Dajh is worried about his father.” Lt. Col. Nabaat's smile didn't quite reach her olivine eyes.

  
“As I said, when I know, you'll know.” The silver-haired man brushed his bangs from his forehead in frustration. “If you'll excuse me, Colonel, I have to get back to work.”

  
Captain Darynga approached. “Excuse me, sir. Ma'am.” She presented her datapad to Yaag. “You wanted the field reports from all teams within a ten mile radius of the Ruins, sir. These include partial transmissions from PSW 58 and PRT 29.”

  
“Yes. Thank you, Captain.” Yaag took the pad before Jihl had the chance to. _This is my command._ He turned politely to the blond woman. “I'm sure you have other work that must be done in this time of crisis, Colonel. I don't wish to keep you. I'll notify you as soon as something actionable is found.” Despite the small bit of sarcasm, he awaited her response blank-faced.

  
Jihl responded with narrowed eyes and a brusque nod. “See that you do, Colonel.” She spun on her heel and left.

  
“Sir. Are you sure that was wise?” Capt. Darynga knew very well her commanding officer's thoughts on the woman who just left.

  
“All proprieties were observed, Captain. I thank you for your concern.” Yaag dismissed her with a nod. _Now let's see what…._ That thought came to a screeching halt. “Damn.” He shook his head. _I don't know whether to be impressed, angered, embarrassed, or frightened._

  
“Captain Darynga. When does Sergeant Meli expect to have a comprehensive report on the l'Cie ready?”

  
“As you requested, sir. 1830 hours.”

  
“Very good. When Sergeant Meli arrives, bring her, Major Shelan, Lieutenant Vedica, and GC Private Torreno with you to my office. We need a strategy.”

  
“Understood, sir.”

  
_**Day 1** **3** **,** **1830** **hours,** **Commander's office** **aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **,** **Lake Bresha**_

Yaag watched his staff plus the GC soldier enter the room. Sgt. Neran Meli stood near the display controls with folders in-hand. As everyone took their seats, Rosch stood.

  
“I've called you all in this evening to hear the information Sergeant Meli has compiled for us. According to what we all witnessed at 1410 today and the reports I received from Captain Darynga at 1663 this afternoon, we are dealing with at least four l'Cie powerful enough to destroy PRT 29 and PSW 58, that's eight wardens and an enforcer all told, as well as whatever wild life survived Lake Bresha's crystallization. There have also been reports of Cieth in the area. I ask that you save your questions until after the full report.” He locked gazes with each of his subordinates before turning to the young woman at the front of the room. “Sgt. Meli, if you would begin, please.”

  
“Yes, sir.” The others accepted the folders she placed in front of them. “Reports indicate there are five people traveling together. Lightning Farron. Snow Villiers. Sazh Katzroy. Hope Estheim. And an unknown young woman. We know four of the five are l'Cie—they use magic; we suspect Hope Estheim may be l'Cie with his own abilities as well. We have yet to confirm that information because he has not been involved in the skirmishes so far. There is a sixth l'Cie and a seventh unidentified person of interest whose whereabouts are unknown at this time.” She turned on the display at the front of the room to reveal a digitized topographical map of the crystalline lake.

  
“As you can see, we have mapped the new landscape defining the lake from above. There are narrow tunnels created by the crystallized waves which will hinder our search from the air. However, that feature will funnel the l'Cie and any Purge survivors between the Vestige and the Ruins. It should be very easy to sweep the area on foot.” She moved to the next image.

  
The small pink-haired girl smiled from the screen. It was a school picture. “This is Serah Farron, younger sister and dependent of Lightning Farron. She is believed to be part of the Pulse energy sensed by Kujata's l'Cie six days ago in addition to the Pulsian fal'Cie reported by Sgt. Darynga and her teams three days ago. Her whereabouts are currently unknown as are her abilities. Our best intelligence places her in the Bodhum Vestige or nearby.” The second image scrolled across the display.

  
A petite young woman was displayed in a split image. On the right, her red hair in curling pigtails was complemented by dark green eyes, a pink halter top, multicolored wrap skirt, beaded jewelry, low boots, and some kind of animal skin and pack tied to her waist. The picture was taken at the Bodhum mall. She was accompanied by a dark haired woman dressed in a length of dark blue fabric with silver border wrapped around her to form a dress of some kind, black crop tank top, beaded necklaces, knee-high open-toed leather boots, and two odd furs tied around her waist. The two women were obviously not from Cocoon. On the left was a high resolution security image of the red-head enveloped in Purge robes entering Purge Train 4. “This is the young woman of unknown origin. She gave her name as Vanille to PSICOM Warden Richaux, an attendance officer in Bodhum yesterday morning. She was traveling with Nora and Hope Estheim, wife and son to Sanctum staff member Bartholomew Estheim. She seems to be protecting young Estheim from battle. Reports state she uses an odd rod-like weapon with extendable hooks and can cast air and healing magic.”

  
“We're still searching for her companion in the left image. This is the most recent security image we could find. Our best intelligence indicates she was in Bodhum at the time the Purge was carried out. We do not have any record of a person matching her description in the Purge logs or registries.” Sgt. Meli forwarded her presentation to the next image.

  
Another split screen showed a dark man in the left image. He wore a civilian pilot's uniform and stood in front of a small transport usually used for school trips. He sported two pistols strapped to his thighs. On the right, the image showed the same man with a yellow splotch in his hair. “This is Sazh Katzroy, formerly of Low Falls. That yellow in his hair is a chocobo chick, believe it or not.” The offhand remark drew disbelieving chuckles from some of those seated at the table. “He is a decorated civilian airship pilot and holds a marksman certificate with single wield, double wield, and transforming pistols and rifles. He is believed to have boarded the Purge train in Bodhum for unknown reasons alongside Lightning Farron, although he gave his name as Darius Renault according to the logs. He is partially responsible for the derailing of Purge Train 6 as well as the loss of manasvin warmech #382. He casts fire magic and also seems to protect Hope Estheim.” Another image slid across the display.

  
A towering blond man appeared. His grin and black bandana tied around his head distracted from the shabbiness of his clothing as he stood on Bodhum's beach. “This is Snow Villiers. His name does not appear on the Purge logs or registries. He is the leader of NORA, a small vigilante group that, until the quarantine was announced, worked alongside Bodhum's GC Security Regiment to keep the wildlife from encroaching on the town and tourists. He is tied to Lightning Farron via her sister, Serah Farron. He is trained in several forms of hand-to-hand combat, although he is eclectic in its application. He's also known to use hand grenades. He and NORA are why Trussways 5W and 6W as well as HST _Ferrinas_ were lost. He is a formidable fighter, has increased stamina, and can cast ice magic.” A fourth image appeared on the display.

  
The assembled PSICOM staff found themselves facing a stern looking young woman in a GC uniform, sergeant's pauldron and holstered gunblade clearly visible in her annual identification photo. Pink hair cascaded over her left shoulder in unruly waves. The uniform was modified to include a red cape, a single pauldron instead of double, no cap, specialized knee high boots, and a sleeveless jacket and crop turtleneck combined with a miniskirt and shorts instead of the standard issue buckled short-sleeved dress and leggings combination. “Lightning Farron, formerly of Bodhum and once assigned to Bodhum's Security Regiment. She resigned her sergeant rank and turned in her gunblade to PSICOM Warden Beddick the morning of the Purge on rail platform #6 before boarding Purge Train 6. She is largely responsible for derailing that train and destroying manasvin warmech #382. According to security footage from that warmech, she also destroyed a short range fighter prototype at the Hanging Edge with one shot. There is no record of her having trained in small artillery; however, taking down a flying target is no easy feat. We're assuming there is still data missing on her capabilities despite our efforts to rebuild her electronic files. According to the video we've obtained of her battling PSICOM forces in the Hanging Edge, she is a master swordsman and an expert in hand to hand combat. From PSICOM records, we know she is an expert marksman with rifles and pistols. She earned exemplary marks in her huntress and inquisitrix training two and a half years ago, and turned down recruitment offers by PSICOM on three different occasions thereafter. She is the only GC soldier on record to earn the privilege of wielding a gunblade in under a year, and only the second to earn expert certification in combat using the gunblade in under two years. For comparison, the average length of time to earn a gunblade, of the few who ever do, is eight years, and the average length of time to earn expert certification with a gunblade, an even smaller group, is another five years. Make no mistake,” Sgt. Meli held everyone's undivided attention, “former Sgt. Farron is our most dangerous foe of the group without her l'Cie powers. Augmented with them, she is a one woman army. She wields thunder and ruin magic, and she possesses increased strength.” Sgt. Meli calmly forwarded the screen as the others passed disconcerted glances amongst themselves.

  
A young boy wearing an orange and yellow short-sleeved jacket, green crop pants and sneakers, black shirt, and a celadon green neckerchief with a black scroll pattern winding along its fringed edges stared out at the assembled soldiers. The photo had been taken in front of the Bodhum Resort hotel. “Hope Estheim, formerly of Palumpolum, is Bartholomew Estheim's only child. Bartholomew is a Sanctum staff member assigned to Research Budgeting and Procurement Pod #4-93. Hope and his mother Nora were mistaken for Bodhum residents or non-Sanctum affiliated tourists, and they were escorted onto Purge Train 4 as such. We know from security footage transmitted by the _Ferrinas_ before it crashed onto the 3N trussway that Nora took up arms against PSICOM with Snow Villiers and his group—she is the one responsible for that loss. We have no record of her identifying herself and her son to PSICOM officials at the train platforms or along the streets yesterday or the day before after the quarantine was announced. We believe young Estheim is the softest target of the l'Cie group. He is a fourteen year old boy with no personal history of delinquency or family history of conflict prior to the Purge. His l'Cie status and abilities are unknown at this time.” The final display came across showing a group of four.

  
Two young men, one not much older than Hope, were shown with a larger man closer to Snow's size and a young woman staring into the camera with a sassy smile seated at an umbrella table on the beach. “This is the core of NORA, Snow Villiers' vigilante group; not to be confused with Nora Estheim. The youngest is Maqui, the blond. He's a gifted mechanic who was taken in by NORA when he left Children's House #482 in Bodhum at the age of thirteen. That was approximately three years ago. The blue-haired young man is Yuj. Not much is known of him other than he's quiet and quite taken with Eden fashion. He, along with the other two, are long time friends of Villiers. The red head is Gadot. He is a capable fighter proficient in rifles and hand to hand combat. The young woman is Lebreau. She is the strategist and is also proficient in rifles. They were all raised in Children's House #482 together; Gadot is the same age as Snow while Yuj and Lebreau are a couple of years younger. None of them are reported in the Purge logs or registries.”

  
Sgt. Meli deactivated the display screen and faced her audience. “That is the best intel we have on all persons of interest to date, Colonel.” Yaag thanked her then dismissed her with a wave. She left a stunned silence behind her.

  
Rosch let the silence and information settle. _Another child brought into this, and one who should never have been subjected to this atrocity_ _in the first place_ _._ He pushed his rising outrage aside then stood and addressed his leadership team. “Thoughts on the l'Cie?”

  
Lieutenant Vedica raised her hand. “Sir. I trained Sgt. Farron, then Private Farron, under the command of Captain Klyptisch. Sergeant Meli is not exaggerating when she says Lightning is a one woman army—I would add **without** being l'Cie. That potential caused her quite a bit of trouble during training. Sgt. Farron was a petite young woman with unusually quick reflexes, a keen mind, and a burning determination to succeed. The smallest and least trained of her class on the first day since she'd only been in the Corps six months and just turned eighteen a month before that, she graduated with highest honors. Do **not** underestimate her.”

  
“So this footage from PRT 29 taken at 1542 hours this afternoon will not surprise you, Lt. Vedica?” Yaag dimmed the lights and replayed the footage he saw in Capt. Darynga's earlier report.

  
_Begin audio/video playback_

_Five people stand in a group. Lightning holds her blazefire saber against Snow's neck._

**Lightning** : *static* ….—lp it? Whose side are you on?

**PSICOM Warden** : Freeze!

_Lightning whips around, dropping her gunblade to her side as the others look up. Seven PSICOM wardens surround the party; all but one take up defensive positions and aim their weapons at the l'Cie._

**PSICOM Warden** : Place your hands behind your heads!

_Hope ducks behind Sazh and Snow as he does as told. The others, save Lightning who stands looking unimpressed and frustrated, do the same. Lightning drops her gunblade to the ground. The lead warden approaches a few steps toward the group._

**Warden Leader** : You fall off the Purge train?

_Lightning looks to the others as if cautioning them to stay still before putting her hands behind her head._

**Lightning** : Maybe.

**Warden Leader** : Are you talking back to me?!

_He storms toward the pink-haired soldier, rifle set and ready in his hands. He swings it into Lightning's face before settling it below her chin._

**Lightning** (looks askance at the warden with a smirk): Nice gun.

_With a coordinated swipe of her hands, Lightning knocks the rifle from the warden's grip. She follows with an elbow to his chin as he watches his rifle sail into the distance. He's disoriented as his head snaps backwards from the blow. She ducks a bit below his midline before sweeping him off his feet by grabbing the back of his nearest knee and pulling up while she pushes backwards on his nearest shoulder, spinning as she does so. He flips head over heels only to meet her boot with his chin. This flings him backwards toward his squad. He doesn't get up again. As the remaining wardens scramble to react to the surprising threat she poses, Lightning flips her gunblade into the air with her foot. She catches it midair with a spinning leap and attacks the three wardens in front of her. She dashes to her right before taunting the soldiers before her._

_Sazh uses the wardens' focus on Lightning's taunting to grab Hope and pull him away. Lightning, Snow, and Vanille are bum rushed by the wardens in front and behind. Within seconds, the camera's visual field flashes white before going dark._

_end video/audio playback_

  
Lt. Vedica sighed “I wish it did, Colonel. Lightning Farron with the powers of a l'Cie is Cocoon's worst nightmare.” The lieutenant shook her head sadly. She looked gravely at the surrounding officers. “If we're right about her sister, she'll be out for blood and death so long as she breathes.”

  
Yaag nodded. “Any other thoughts?”

  
“Have we thought of the Estheim boy, sir?” Everyone turned their attention to Pvt. Torreno, the GC liaison sent by Lt. Amodar. He continued in a stilted voice. “I'm serious. L'Cie or not, at least Katzroy and the unknown girl are protecting him. Is it possible they'll try to get him home to his father?”

  
_Meli and Shelan said Sgt. Farron was well-respected by her peers. This can't be easy for him._

  
Major Shelan added his thoughts to the mix. “That's a valid question, Colonel. At the very least, we should have the Estheim residence watched.”

  
The silver-haired officer thought it over. _Where else will the boy go? We don't even know if he's a l'Cie, and at least Katzroy will want to get him home regardless._ After a minute to push the building moroseness away, Lt. Col. Rosch answered. “Very well, Shelan. Send your best sweep team to Palumpolum with bombardiers, aerial snipers, and a skytank as backup. They are **not** to engage unless the l'Cie show up. We can't take any chances. Farron, at least, is familiar with military protocol. I wouldn't be surprised if she can guess what we're doing. Let's make it difficult for her. Yes?” He received an answering nod from his second. _There we can neutralize three of the five. Farron will probably come for us, and Villiers will be easy to find._ He turned his attention back to the GC private.

  
“Pvt. Torreno. What are your thoughts on Lt. Vedica's assessment of Sgt. Farron?” He watched as the young man struggled to maintain his military bearing. After an uncomfortable few minutes, Pvt. Torreno spoke.

  
“Lt. Vedica's assessment of Sgt. Farron is accurate, sir. As far as it goes.” The young man lifted a pained gaze to his superior officers. “If the fal'Cie still holds the younger Farron hostage, the elder will do whatever it takes to rescue her.” A pained grimace surfaced and stayed. “That's why she resigned. That's why she boarded the train. That's why she entered the Vestige.” He took a deep shuddering breath. “And that's why she'll betray Cocoon as a Pulse l'Cie if she has to. To save her sister.” Pvt. Torreno's last words caused another long silence. “If Serah's already crystal, cieth, or dead, Sgt. Farron will destroy anything and everything she holds responsible for it.”

  
Lt. Col. Rosch nodded his head after the private corroborated his own assessment of Lightning Farron's probable actions. The silence settled again. “Duty binds us all, Private. To that end, I'm going to position ten skytanks in the Breshan Causeway in case, by some miracle, the l'Cie manage to make it through the Ruins. Their orders will be to shoot on sight so do not send any of our fighters through there unless in pursuit of the l'Cie. There may still be a somewhat functional airship or two from centuries ago, and I'm not going to underestimate Sazh Katzroy's abilities as a pilot or Lightning Farron's apparent ability to master any weapon she chooses. Any questions or suggestions?” He waited a few heartbeats before saying, “Dismissed.”

  
The others filed out; Private Torreno trailed after them. “Private. A moment.”

  
Torreno turned back. Obvious surprise that the Military Director would have anything else to say to him turned his dejected expression into something a little less melancholy. “Yes, sir?”

  
“About Farron.” Yaag measured the younger man's nonverbal cues. _He needs to understand that, despite his respect and her honorable service thus far, she_ _ **is**_ _an enemy. A rabid monster who needs to be put down_ _—_ _for her sake as well as Cocoon's._ The colonel held the private's gaze. “L'Cie are no longer human, Private. As admirable as Lightning Farron, sergeant of Bodhum's Security Regiment, may be; Lightning Farron, Pulse l'Cie, is set to destroy our home. **Her** home.” Yaag saw Torreno's anger and grief in his eyes. “Do you think she'd want us to stand aside as she does this? Do you believe she wishes to be some fal'Cie's **slave**?” He nodded as the young GC soldier shook his head. “Exactly. Just as her duty to her sister drove her onto the Purge Train and into the Vestige, our duty to Cocoon drives us to confront her and prevent her from turning cieth or, worse, succeeding in whatever focus the fal'Cie tasked her with. Understood?”

  
A muttered “Yes, sir.” was all the private was able to muster as an answer.

  
“Grieve as you will. Prepare as you must.” Yaag paused to let his words sink in, words his father had shared with him many years ago. “Dismissed.” This time the PSICOM colonel allowed the GC private to leave as his thoughts returned to the time when he almost lost himself to grief and his father pulled him back.

 

> _**Flashback: 8 years earlier, PSICOM Outpost Triad, Nautilus** _
> 
> _Captain Yaag Rosch sat at his desk. Phoenix' light had long since left; a small desk lamp was his only illumination. Sheafs of paper lay before him; his mother told him when he was a boy that a handwritten note was a more sincere gesture when emotions were involved. Today he wanted to convey sincerity and consideration in everything he did._
> 
>  
> 
> _He received a field promotion today. This placed him in command of his unit; a unit that lost several good soldiers and a well-respected commander. As the new commander, it was his duty to notify family and next of kin when someone under his command died. In this case, he needed to notify his comrades' families in place of their commander, who also died. All but one letter was finished. One of the soldiers who died was Lieutenant Mira Conlan, his fiancée._
> 
>   
>  I can't do this. _Tears fell unheeded onto the paper in front of him, forgotten pen in hand. Images of Mira flashed through his mind. Her small, shy smile. Her twinkling gray eyes that hinted at her inner imp. The way light would play off her charcoal black hair when it was down. Her fierce determination in the field. Her sardonic sense of humor that balanced his_ _serious nature so well._
> 
>   
>  _A door opening in the new-made captain's quarters added a soft swish to the muffled sobs coming from the room's occupant. The elder Rosch, now retired, let the door slide shut behind him and watched. He'd heard about the trouble in the Vile Peaks and Yaag's promotion from one of his old protégés. He knew what his son had to do now, and he knew the heartache those letters caused. As a commander, he'd been responsible for many of them over the years. He could imagine the additional burden he'd have borne if he'd written one for his wife. Taggert called his son by name, “Yaag.” He wasn't surprised when he got no response._
> 
>   
>  _More recent images flashed pulling Yaag's mind into deeper turmoil. Flashes of gunfire and mana drives. Screams of the injured and dying. Screeching of rusted metal. **Her** flying into a mound of detritus. Him destroying the Pulse automaton that hit her. Red blood flowing from too many wounds, bones showing stark white against her dark uniform. Mana drives depleted in the fight unable to cure. An 'I love you' on a wheeze and a gasp. Silence. Stillness._
> 
>   
>  _Taggert approached his grieving son. Laying a hand on the other's shoulder, he grasped onto his son. “Yaag.” He steadied the younger man when he came out of his daze._
> 
>   
>  “ _Father. Wha—?” Captain Rosch brushed the tears away. He looked unseeing at the blank pages before him. “I'm sorry. I'm rather busy….”_
> 
>   
>  “ _Yaag.” Taggert knew his son. Knew that Yaag would bury the grief and attempt to return to duty as if nothing happened. He'd made the same mistake when he first lost someone under his command. He was forever grateful to Kelren, his wife, for stopping that nonsense before it destroyed him._
> 
>   
>  _Father embraced son. For the first time since he was a child, Yaag cried. Sobbing into his father's shoulder, all he could do was ask “Why?” Every hitched breath carried the agonized question._
> 
>   
>  “ _It's alright, Yaag. Take tonight.” Taggert pulled back and gazed at his child. It was like looking into a mirror. “Grieve as you will. Prepare as you must.” A subdued nod was his son's response._
> 
> _**End Flashback** _

  
Shaking off his years' old grief, Yaag forced himself back into the present. _I understand Farron and Katzroy, even Villiers, more than I should. What would I have done if I didn't have PSICOM to dedicate myself to when Mira died? They have nothing to hold. No structure. No goal. No hope. The one thing that might hold them back has been taken from them._

  
Director Rosch reminded himself of an important point, “Understanding does not, **cannot** , equal empathy or sympathy. They are Pulse l'Cie. Enemies of Cocoon. Even they know that, and they know the consequences.”

  
Determination renewed, Yaag approached his display communications unit. Entering a code, he waited for the other person to pick up the encrypted line. After thirty seconds of digital red tape, Cid Raines' image flashed then stabilized.

  
Brigadier General Raines' cool voice flowed through the speakers. “What is it, Colonel?”

  
“So formal, Cid? I thought we'd discarded that after the mess in the Vile Peaks.” A small grin creased the PSICOM Director's face.

  
An answering smirk settled on Raines' face. “Right. What can I do for you...Yaag?”

  
Yaag shook his head at the deliberate and predictable baiting. “We have reason to believe at least four l'Cie were made by that abomination in Bodhum before we brought it to the Hanging Edge for Purging. In its death throws, it crystallized the entirety of Lake Bresha. We have to go in on foot for most of it. I'm sending a few skytanks into the more accessible areas.”

  
“What does that have to do with me, Yaag? You know I'll help if I can; we both received those orders even if I wouldn't do it anyway. I still have my own duties to attend to though, so if you can do without my help it's better if you do.”

  
“Patience, Raines. I'm getting to that.” Colonel Rosch considered his friend's words. _It's not like Raines to avoid joint missions like this. I wonder what's wrong._ Raines' voice caught his attention.

 

“I'm afraid I'm not as patient as I once was.” The man's voice dimmed with melancholy. “Time catches up to all of us, my friend. And time is finite.”

  
Curiosity piqued, Yaag stifled the urge to ask what was wrong. _We'll have time to_ _catch up_ _once this is all over._ He stayed on task. “True. Very well. Bluntly, I need you to send Rygdea out on recon for me. Your Cavalry is the best there is, and I need that if we're going to preserve Cocoon.”

  
“Understood, Colonel.” Cid was back to his normal sarcastic self. “I'll send him and his team out for two hours. I'll have a report on anything of interest to you at that time.”

  
“Very good, General. I appreciate the help.”

  
“Always, Director. Always.” Cid logged off.

  
Yaag settled in to review upgraded manning requirements at the Ruins and for the sweep teams that were being deployed in an hour.

  
_**Day 13, 1935 hours, Commander's office aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _, Lake Bresha_

“Sir!” Major Shelan rushed into Yaag's office. “We've found one of the l'Cie and what appears to be the girl, the younger Farron, in crystal stasis.”

 

“What?!” Yaag set his datapad aside. He stood to lead his second out of his office and into the command center. The sweep team's transmission came over the console.

  
“ _Sweep team to base. L'Cie spotted. I repeat, l'Cie spotted.”_

  
Yaag nodded at Corporal Pliner who brought up the livestream from the team's skytanks.

  
_begin audio/video stream_

_A tall blond man, who could only be Snow Villiers, wields what once might have been an internal support for a trussway as an ice pick. A pile of crystals holds and shelters the crystallized form of a girl wrapped in ribbon. The ambient light flashes blue reflecting off crystal. Villiers stands and faces the skytanks._

_The transmission comes through the livestream and console,_ “Pulse l'Cie. Confirmed.”

_Raising an arm, his voice can be heard clearly despite the distance._ “You gonna lend me a hand, or what?”

_Snow watches as the first PSICOM team leaps to the ground with gravity bombs breaking their fall. They rush to take up positions around the blond. A second team drops behind the first._

_The team's leader says,_ “Commencing clean up protocol.”

_Snow holds the makeshift ice pick in front of him. The rangers' microphones pick up his murmured words._ “Clean up? Let me help.”

_Snow draws his arm back and throws the improvised weapon like a spear straight into the oncoming sweep team knocking two rangers to the ground. He follows up with a flying leap onto the foremost ranger's chest, crushing the soldier instantly._

_Reinforcements land just beyond the group Snow is attacking._

_Snow pummels through the teams with fists and ice. When he falls to all fours in front of the remaining team; a white-blue light glows from his left forearm. The enforcers and rangers back away. A matching orb grows from Snow's brand._

_Myriad voices yell encouragement to combat their fear._

“What's he doing?”

“Watch yourself!”

“Stay alert!”

_When the orb bursts, two statuesque women spin from the midst of it and take up defensive positions in front of the l'Cie. The skytanks' cameras go dark as they go down leaving the shakier personal cameras on the rangers and enforcers below._

_One dark, the other light, both women attack the stunned soldiers destroying the last team instantly in a bright flash of blue light._

_end audio/video stream_

  
_More_ _team_ _s_ _down._ Yaag breathed deeply through his nose before exhaling slowly. _Calm. Cool heads make better decisions._ Counting to three, he narrowed his eyes in thought. Rosch turned to his second and issued his commands. “Bring in the crusaders, executioners, and watchdrones. Station them at the Ruins and along all approaches to the Ruins. I want another sweep and another recon team out there as well. We need all the information on the l'Cie we can get.”

  
Major Shelan saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  
“Also, make sure this gets to Gen. Raines and Capt. Rygdea of the Wide-Area Response Brigade. They'll need to know about this.” Rosch turned his attention to plotting the l'Cies' most likely course. _Let's see if you handle our search and destroy teams as well as you have our recon and sweep teams, Farron._

  
_**Day 1**_ _ **3**_ _ **,**_ _ **2062**_ _ **hours, PSICOM Op**_ _ **eration**_ _ **s Command**_ _ **Center**_ _ **aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **,**_ _ **Lake Bresha**_

Yaag Rosch felt his frustration expand beyond his chest, into his stomach, and out to his fingers and toes. “What do you mean we've lost a garuda interceptor? What about the three search and destroy teams **and** the recon and sweep teams we moved into the area?” Rosch gritted his teeth. _Not to mention the_ _five_ _teams already there searching for Purge survivors._

  
Major Shelan stood at stark attention. “Sir. It appears the l'Cie plowed through every team they encountered until they reached the dead end in the Ruins where they encountered and destroyed the interceptor.”

  
Yaag took a deep breath. “And where are they now?” Rosch's voice quieted as he tried to calm himself. “Surely you have sufficient information on them to answer that.” His voice adopted a sibilant quality that chilled everyone in the room.

  
“Yes sir.” Captain Darynga spoke into the thick silence between her two superior officers. “As predicted, they found an operational airship. I am detecting a power up, and an initial scan shows it to be similar in design to our small scouting ships.” She touched a few indicators on her console. “Their most likely trajectory will be out through the Breshan Causeway, although the craft is probably maneuverable enough to fly over Lake Bresha and out toward Palumpolum or Bodhum.”

  
“Shelan, ready fighter squadrons 26 through 30. Two squadrons are to corral the l'Cie into the Breshan Causeway if possible. Notify the skytanks stationed there... They are to fire at will. The other fighter squadrons are to be on standby in case the l'Cie move over the lake.” Channeling his agitation into movement, Yaag paced. “If that happens, it will be their job to either shoot them down or herd them back toward the Causeway. Notify Alpha Battalion they are to send reinforcements to the canyon area above ground immediately.”

  
“Yes, sir. How many?”

  
“At least five squadrons.”

  
Maj. Shelan managed to keep his jaw closed. “Uh. Yes, sir.” He turned to issue the orders.

  
“Corporal Pliner.”

  
“Yes, sir.” The poor young man's voice cracked a bit with nerves. The Military Director never let his emotions show, and seeing him out of sorts left the nineteen year old unnerved.

  
“Patch video from all involved skytanks into the main console.” He paused in his pacing. “I want the surveillance video from fal'Cie Phoenix available as well.”

  
“Yes, sir.” Corp. Pliner began inputting the commands.

  
Barely waiting for the corporal's acknowledgment, Rosch continued, “Captain Darynga, notify the Nautilus Security Regiment. I want them forward-deployed into the Vile Peaks.”

  
“With what kind of forces, sir?” Darynga and Shelan looked at each other in confusion.

  
“We're hunting l'Cie, Captain. Their most likely first stop is the Vile Peaks. There's Pulse automata up and down those trails. Tell them that. They'll need units that are fast, strong, and agile.” He paused to consider the way the l'Cie had swept aside his own teams and their possible goals. “Whatever numbers the GC thinks they need, tell them to double it. We'll add our own tracking units including uhlan along the trails to the Gapra Whitewood. They'll probably take Hope Estheim home to Palumpolum, and the Whitewood is the most direct route from the Peaks.”

  
“Should we notify the Woodlands Observation Battalion, too, sir?” Major Shelan caught onto his commander's reasoning faster than the others.

  
“Not yet. If the l'Cie are dealt with here, we have no reason to. If they aren't dealt with here, I'll need to report to the Primarch and Director Nabaat.” Yaag's face tightened. “They'll have some ideas to share, I'm sure.”

  
“Done, sir.” A split frame collage focused on the Breshan Causeway appeared on the command center's main console. “I also got the fighters' cameras online.”

  
“Orders sent and acknowledged, sir.” Captain Darynga's voice followed Corporal Pliner's.

  
“Very good.”

  
Major Shelan gazed curiously at his commander. “Sir. What do we do now?”

  
“We wait.”

  
_**10 minutes later…**_

“Sir, we have visual.” Major Shelan's voice cut the thick silence that had settled after the Military Director's cold response to his previous question. Everyone turned their attention to the main console.

  
_begin audio/video stream_

_A small airship resembling a PSICOM scout ship zips from the Ruins along Lake Bresha. Five fighters follow close behind. Sazh, the presumed pilot, weaves back and forth, up and down in an effort to avoid being hit. By and large, the pilot's efforts are successful. More fighters join the pursuit._

_They fly into the narrow Breshan Causeway toward the waiting ten sky tanks. Orders are heard in the command center._

“Weapons, fire at will. I repeat. Fire. At. Will.”

_Lights shine into the darkened Causeway, blinding the fighters, while sirens echo in the small space on the other side. The Causeway is further brightened when the sky tanks deploy and fire their plasma cannons._

_The fighters following the l'Cie ship continue to fire upon it. Their cameras pick up the cannon fire streaming down. The small airship fires upon the middle skytank on the right side. Several hits and the skytank is engulfed in a fire ball. The small airship flies through the space formerly occupied by the destroyed airship._

“Gamma Battalion's down. All remaining battalion's pursue the l'Cie!”

_The l'Cie ship weaves erratically, nearly crashing into buildings. The skytanks fall behind._

  
Yaag cuts the havoc video feed; while shakier than the skytanks' video, the fighters' video link is now the only source of video for those in the command center. More orders are heard via audio link.

  
“Fighter squads 26 and 30 don't lose them.”

_As they approach the canyon's sidewall, Katzroy aims straight up dodging weapons' fire and falling debris. The observers watch as the l'Cie craft sustains minor damage._

“The canyon is too narrow. Squad 26 drop back.” _Squad 26 peels away from pursuit. Squad 30 follows along the canyon walls._

_After the successful volley by PSICOM forces, the l'Cie airship dives into a river canyon. Squad 30 dives with them. Racing along the surface of the river, the Sanctum's fighters gain on their quarry._

_Bobbing and weaving between the canyon walls, the l'Cie fire upon a rocky arch then fly under it. Fighter 30-1 flies under and isn't as lucky. Fighters 30-3 and 30-4 go over. As they breech the dust left behind by the l'Cies' successful evasion, Squad 30 loses sight of them._

“30-2 to base. We've lost our target.”

“Understood, 30-2. Return to base.”

_end audio/video_

  
“Damn it!” Yaag felt a headache start behind his old scar. He began to pace in agitation.

  
Captain Darynga spoke into the stifling silence after her commander's outburst. “Sir. Fighter squadrons 24 and 39 have been deployed from Eden. They are canvassing the area the l'Cie were last seen now.”

  
_I told them to send_ _ **five**_ _._ Yaag settled his nerves. “Thank you, Captain. Let me know when the l'Cie are found. I'll be in my office. If General Raines or Captain Rygdea of the Cavalry call in, patch them straight through.”

  
“Yes, sir.”

  
_**Day 1** **3** **,** **2** **142** **hours,** **Commander's office** **aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **,** **Lake Bresha**_

Yaag looked up from his blank staring contest with his office wall as his display comm. went off. Reaching over, he turned and accepted the call. Cid Raines' face appeared before him.

 

“Cid. What news do you have for me?”

  
“Not good, I'm afraid, Yaag.” Cid's no-nonsense tone sparked the other man's interest. “We have the girl's crystal, and we've confirmed it's Serah Farron via face recognition scans. Snow Villiers was no where to be found.”

  
“That's odd. Our intel suggests he'd never willingly leave her.” Lt. Col. Rosch was confused at the l'Cie's behavior. _I suppose we can always use the younger Farron's crystal to bait him into a trap._

  
The Cavalry's general suggested a solution to his bemusement. “Perhaps he didn't leave willingly. You told me in your communiqué that the last you saw he had summoned beings powerful enough to knock three of your skytanks out of the air. They may have turned on him.”

  
“True. That leaves us with the elder Farron and the others, though. Not my first choice.” Yaag contemplated his options for a few seconds. “Can you bring me the younger's crystal? I might be able to bait her sister into a trap with it.”

  
“The order to take the crystal into custody and drop it into an AMP void came down from Primarch Dysley himself. We're on our way to Drop Zone PhiTheta now.” Raines expression drooped with sympathy. “I'm sorry, Yaag. You're on your own with Farron and the others.”

  
Rosch nodded. “Don't worry about it. Orders are orders.” He smirked. “Did Rygdea find anything about the other l'Cie?”

  
“He did. They're heading to the Ruins as you suspected.”

  
“I know; we've pursued them out. Did he follow?”

  
“No. He didn't have the team for that, and we had to extract the younger's crystal.” Cid paused before issuing a warning to his longtime friend. “Farron seems to have taken the lead, Yaag. Tell your teams to watch themselves.”

  
Yaag nodded. “Thank you, Cid. Truly.”

  
“Watch yourself, too, Rosch. I have a feeling this is bigger than all of us.” The melancholy Yaag saw earlier settled over the GC officer. “You, better than Jihl, can see it. We all have a part to play.”

  
“Cid. Are y—“ Yaag's question was cut short.

  
“I have to go, Rosch.” Cid smiled sadly. “You are an honorable man, Colonel. Don't lose that.”

  
The screen went blank. Cid refused to answer his requests for an open channel. _Damn it, Raines. What were you hinting at?_ Yaag shook his concern away and refocused on the task at hand.

  
_**Day 1** **3** **,** **2** **211** **hours, PSICOM Op** **eration** **s Command** **Center** **aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **,** **Lake Bresha**_

“Sir. They've found the l'Cie. Patching audio and video through now.” Major Shelan took control of communications from Corporal Pliner.

 

_begin audio/video_

_Video of the midair fight in progress brightens the screen. Multiple hits are made to the l'Cie craft. Smoke is seen from their lower gun turret. The airships break through the cloud cover just below fal'Cie Phoenix._

_Nearly blinded by the fal'Cie, the conflict pauses as the pilots adjust to the sudden change in light. All viewers watch in shock and awe as the l'Cie fly into the writhing mass of energy below the fal'Cie._

“What are they doing?”

“39-1 to base. The l'Cie craft has flown into fal'Cie Phoenix' energy aura. What are our orders?”

“Fly in, 39-1. Squad 24 will take up perimeter positions in case the l'Cie make it out.”

“Understood.”

_Fighter squadron 39 pursues the l'Cie into the dangerous underbelly of fal'Cie Phoenix. Four of the fighters remain behind, firing upon the small airship._

“Fighters 39-4, 5, and 6. Swing around them and cut them off.”

“Roger that.”

_Just as the acknowledgment is received, fighter 39-4 is blown to smithereens by one of the fal'Cie's energy flares. Another surge shoots out, forcing fighter 39-2 out of formation. A third blast whips out toward the l'Cie craft; a stream of smoky airship bits trail behind them as it plummets toward the ground below._

“39-2 to base. The l'Cie are going down. I repeat. The l'Cie are hit and going down.”

“Where, 39-2?”

“I do not have a visual, base.”

“24-5 to base. I can see them clearly. They're going down in the Vile Peaks.”

“Understood, 24-5. Squadrons 24 and 39, return to base.”

_End audio/video_

  
Lt. Col. Rosch ran his hands over his face. _I can't believe we lost them._ He gazed into the distance. “I need to report to the Primarch. Shelan, you have command until I return. I expect we'll return to Eden.”

  
“Yes, sir.” An apprehensive silence fell amongst Rosch's staff as he stalked out to speak with his superiors.

  
_**Day 1**_ _ **3**_ _ **,**_ _ **22**_ _ **35**_ _ **hours, Primarch Dysley's mobile office aboard the**_ **Palamecia** _ **,**_ _ **Lake Bresha**_

“Excellency, we've forward deployed the Nautilus Regiment into the Vile Peaks. The l'Cie will not find it easy going. If we could forward deploy the remnants of the Bodhum Regiment...”

  
Yaag cut Jihl off. “With respect, Director Nabaat. The Bodhum Security Regiment is effectively defunct. Lt. Amodar resigned effective 1920 hours today, and half the Regiment joined him. Guardian Corps Command is disseminating the remaining manpower to the other units as we speak.”

  
“Tell them to reconstitute the Regiment, and they can place their personnel in Sunleth.” Nabaat's eyes flashed.

  
“To what point and purpose, Jihl?” Dysley's voice rasped through the office like dry leaves across concrete. “You have the l'Cie boy to guide you. Rosch has set up obstacles in the l'Cie's most likely path. That is enough for now.”

  
“What of the Whitewood, Primarch?” Yaag felt the cords constraining his movements enclose him throughout the conversation. With every word the Primarch spoke, they tightened more. _We must cut off all means of escape. Why is he blocking us? Jihl's basic idea has merit,_ _even if using the Bodhum Regiment is out of the question_ _._ He couldn't help thinking the Primarch was not as diligent in his protective duties toward Cocoon as the man should be. “The l'Cie are surprisingly resourceful, and with Farron leading them...”

  
Primarch Dysley cut him off. “I trust PSICOM will move mountains to stop the l'Cie scourge, Colonel. Notifying the Woodlands Observation Battalion will just pull manpower we do not need from other necessary tasks.”

  
Before Yaag could argue the point further, Jihl bowed to Dysley. “Of course, Your Eminence.” With a stern motion of her head, she signaled Yaag to follow her out. He spun on his heel and stalked after her as Dysley gave the order to return to Eden.

  
“What Jihl?” Yaag confronted his superior officer as soon as the door slid shut. _I do not have time for this._ Wanting to put the fruitless 'strategy session' out of his mind, he waited impatiently for PSICOM's Director to get to the point.

  
“I have an idea. What if we could use Dajh as a kind of dowsing rod to track the l'Cie? We could then set up any trap, any where, any time.” A cunning smile graced her lips.

  
“And how long would it take to understand or expand his abilities to that point?” Rosch pushed aside his discomfort of using a child to track his father with the goal of assassinating him. _I have to trust Eden will step in when this goes too far._

  
“I don't know. Dajh is in Eden, and we can begin his testing immediately after we return.” Her hand clenched over her baton in frustration.

  
“ **You** can begin his testing. **I** have units to deploy and oversee.” Yaag watched her indignation rise. _Go play with your science project, Nabaat. I have a hunt to coordinate._

  
Jihl hissed, “How many people will you throw at these l'Cie? How many units will you deploy and where? You don't know enough, and you can't predict where they'll end up.”

  
“Oh, but I do, and I can.” Yaag gave her a cold smile. “I possess something you lack, Jihl.” He paused to let her curiosity overtake her wounded pride. “The trust of those who knew the l'Cie before this mess started.” He saluted his superior and left her gawking in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, as of right now I do NOT expect to write what amounts to the entire game from Rosch’s point of view as in-depth as I’ve done for the first three chapters. Palumpolum will be very intensive from Yaag’s point of view, as will Eden up until he blows himself and the two humbaba to hell. The rest I expect to be far more spread out over time as he does his thing and contends with Nabaat and Dysley.


End file.
